


Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

by Fishing Nets (UntoldDepths)



Series: A Busy Vigilante's Guide to Rest, Relaxation, and Rejuvenation [1]
Category: Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Tim Drake, CEO Tim Drake, Gen, Kidnapping, Lethal Tim Drake, Stressed Tim Drake, Tim Drake is So Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntoldDepths/pseuds/Fishing%20Nets
Summary: It's been a long and stressful week and Tim just wants to go home and get a nap. Too bad someone else has other plans for him. The last thing Tim thought he needed was yet another crisis on top of the ones he's already dealing with.Then Dick picksthat momentto show up.
Series: A Busy Vigilante's Guide to Rest, Relaxation, and Rejuvenation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031325
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for rapey threats and Tim's lack of self care. Also allusions to kinky sex. And only a rough approximation of editing.
> 
> This is the prequel of the series, but can be read as a stand alone, if kinky sex isn't your thing

The end of a Thursday had never felt like such a relief. Tim quickly shut down his computer and cleared his desk before anything new could come up.

“Mr Drake-Wayne,” Tam said, sticking her head through the open door to his office.

“It’s five o’clock, Tam. I’m going home.”

“Good.” Tam nodded once, approvingly. “Make sure you get some sleep. It’s been a long week. Tomorrow’s board meeting is going ahead at 9am, but I’ve cleared the rest of the day like you asked me to.”

“Thanks Tam, what would I do without you?” Tim asked, rhetorically. He held a hand up to smother his yawn and then pushed himself out of his seat.

“Probably have bled out somewhere in the middle east,” Tam told him, already walking back to her own desk. Tim didn’t bother dignify that with a response, merely made his way to the elevator and tried not to fall asleep while standing. “I meant it about the sleep, Tim. Don’t go getting into anything crazy tonight. Not after this week.”

“Sure,” Tim replied. The elevator dinged and Tim stepped through the opened doors. He turned around to see Tam still typing away on her computer. “You’re not going home yet?”

“I have to reply to a couple emails about scheduling first. I won’t be long, promise.”

Good, Tim wanted to say, but the elevator doors slid shut before he was able. The last week had been almost as hard on her as it had been on him. He’d had the luxury of crisis management mode, dealing with things as they came up and delegating the rest. Tam was the one things got delegated to. She’d had to postpone or reschedule all kinds of meetings, schedule new ones with all kinds of people, and keep the press and whoever else came calling at bay.

Tim definitely owed her a fruit basket for this.

“I wonder what she’s going to say when she learns about what I have planned for tonight,” Tim mused when he finally stumbled out of the Wayne Enterprises building.

“Doesn’t matter what she’s going to say,” a gruff and slimy voice says from over Tim’s shoulder. Tim’s too tired to jump, let alone suppress the reflex, but he does manage to internally kick himself for being so unaware. “Your plans are officially cancelled.”

Tim spun around to see a heavy set man in a cheap suit and a balaclava looming over him, with the hint of a leer around his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the man judgmentally.

“No need to look at me like that,” the man said. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Tim’s ear. Tim rocked away from his hand but not far enough. “Just cooperate and I’ll make sure you’re well looked after. Bet you’re a slut, huh? Showing off in those fitted suits.” He was sidling closer to Tim as he talked, wrapping one meaty arm across Tim’s shoulders possessively. “Bet you’d feel so tight on my-”

Tim snapped.

It had been a long week, dealing with the fallout from two simultaneous disasters and ensuring Wayne Enterprises’ reputation was preserved as much as possible. Combined with his usual Red Robin duties, Tim was exhausted mentally and physically.

From the moment Tim saw this man looming over him, Tim had been having flashbacks to the morning’s harassment and discrimination seminars HR had insisted he wasn’t exempt from. ‘Mandatory is mandatory, even if you’re the one who ordered them’, apparently.

He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep for a couple hours before he had to deal with the next thing. He didn’t want to deal with this.

So when this man got close to Tim’s ear and started insinuating things, Tim didn’t stop to think. He just acted.

He grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand and jabbed the fingers of his other hand into the shoulder joint, hitting the pressure point there. Arm disabled, he spun under it and used it to flip the man over his shoulder, feet high in the air.

The man collided with the pavement with “whump” and a groan. Tim eyed him warily but he showed no signs of getting up. He started to relax a little, adrenalin fizzling out as quickly as it’d come.

There was the sound of a gun cocking next to Tim’s ear and he froze momentarily. How stupid, to let his guard down without kknowing the full situation. To let himself get distracted by the guy in front of him and not think about how many others there might be. He straightened up and eyed the gunman, more hired muscle in a suit. Even in this state, with the first man groaning on the ground, Tim should have no trouble taking him out. If he wanted to risk his identity even further, that is.

Another gun clicked as its safety was released and Tim turned to see another gunman several metres away. There was no way he’d be able to take both of them out, tired as he was. Even if he didn’t care about keeping his secret identity.

And there was no way to tell for certain that there wasn’t someone else waiting in the wings.

Slowly, Tim raised his hands in surrender.

“There’s a good little boy,” The first gunman crooned. The first man managed to pick himself up off the ground and stand, one hand cradling his shoulder and the other swinging limply at his side. Tim felt a spark of vicious satisfaction. “Just play nice and nothing will happen to you.” He held out a burlap sack and pulled it over Tim’s head.

Right before his vision was blocked, Tim locked eyes with Dick, standing across the square and obviously here to pick Tim up.

He was jerked out of his musings by hands on his arms. His wrists were swiftly crossed behind his back and cuffed with rough hemp rope. Tim shifted slightly to test his binds and had to force himself not to scoff. Kon had used more secure knots a few times when they played, and Kon only ever used bondage for show.

He was unceremoniously shoved into a vehicle and driven to a secondary location. With nothing better to do, he closed his eyes and tried to track the route they were taking.

* * *

Tim was rudely jerked out of the meditative state he’d managed to sink into by some asshole tossing an entire bucket worth of cold water over his face, burlap sack and all. He had been tied to a childs’ school chair while he was out but not with any more skill than the initial wrist cuff.

“That water better be clean,” Tim sulked, turning his face down and trying not to breathe through the material as much as possible. “Why are you doing this?”

The sack was roughly yanked off Tim’s head, messing up his hair on the way. Tim looked up to see the first guy crouching in front of him. They’d put his arm in a sling. “You have bigger things to worry about than whether or not the water’s clean, pretty boy,” he said, mocking.

A quick glance around showed Tim that he was in the middle of a rather dingy office. The floor was a tacky blue carpet, the walls were yellow and there were thick curtains in front of the room’s only window to Tim’s left. Thinking about the length of time he was carried and the resulting bruise forming on his abdomen, Tim was pretty sure he was on at least the third floor of a walk up office building. There were several meters between him and anything else. That included all filing cabinets, walls and even the desk. Two unoccupied chairs - visitor chairs, probably - were pushed against the wall to his right.

“Pneumonia’s worth complaining about,” Tim snarked back. “Especially with how busy I am.” Sling didn’t look impressed, just stood up and turned away from Tim. 

“I’m sure I can help with that,” A new voice said from behind Tim. Tim tilted his head back to get a good look at the newcomer, as much as he’s able to upside down. The man was significantly better dressed than the men who kidnapped him. His suit, while still being off the rack, was made of a higher quality material. He was also not wearing a balaclava, which didn’t bode well for Tim’s chances. His face was thin and his thin moustache and beady eyes made him seem somewhat rat like.

“I’m sure you can,” Tim answered sardonically. Sling slapped him across the face for his cheek.

“Now, now,” Rat Face said, circling around the room to sit behind the desk. “None of that” He steepled his fingers under his chin and leant on his elbows like the walking cliche he was. Tim really hoped his rescue would be soon. “I’d like to keep this as civil as possible.”

Tim wriggled in his cahir as much as he could pointedly, raising an eyebrow to convey his disbelief.

“An unavoidable necessity,” Rat Face said, doing a passable attempt at sorrowfulness. “My employer grows impatient.”

“Your employer,” Tim said flatly.

“Yes. You denied him once so he contracted my services. We were supposed to have a meeting to discuss matters properly, but you had your assistant cancel.” He sighed like he felt Tim was an errant child who had disrespected him. Tim had been running Wayne Enterprises for almost two years now and hadn’t felt like a proper child in years. Yet he sometimes still got treated like one and every time he hated it.

“What does your employer want?” Tim asked, barely managing not to talk through gritted teeth.

“Glad to see you’re cooperating,” Rat Face said, smiling. Tim thinks having a teacher pat him on the head for being able to add two and two would be less patronising. He reached down and pulled a briefcase out from under the desk, placing it on the table and unlocking it. Tim was pretty sure he was drawing this out on purpose. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and closed the briefcase, laying the document on top, before he finally spoke again. “My employer wishes to acquire the Riverside Pines site, which Wayne Enterprises is currently in possession of.”

“What? No!” Tim exclaimed before he could think about it. He really needed to get a good night’s sleep. “Do you not keep up with the news? Even if you came to me in my office, legally, there’s no way I'd be able to sign that over right now. Tell Mr Mayhew that it’s not going to happen.”

“That’s too bad,” Rat Face said. “I’m sure we can change your mind.” He stood up from behind his desk and made his way around Tim to the door. “In the meantime, the boys will look after you.” The door opened and then closed again, leaving Tim in the room with Sling watching his every move.

Or so he thought.

In his peripheral vision, Tim saw another man skulking along the wall to claim one of the empty visitor chairs. Tim’s knees spasmed, his own tiny chair and the bonds around his ankles forcing him to hold his legs bent in an uncomfortable angle.

“Don’t go screamin’ or not’in’,” the new man said, crossing his ankle on his knee casually. Tim recognised him as the first gunman from earlier. “It won’t help you, but it’ll be annoying for us and we’ll have to gag you.”

“Sure,” Tim agreed blithely. “Wake me when my ride gets here.” He closed his eyes and feigned trying to sleep. A dangerous game as sleep deprived as he was, but there wasn’t much else to do.

“No one’s coming for you,” Gunman said, derisively. “And no sleeping, either. Boss wants you kept awake at all times.”

“My family knows I’ve been taken. Someone will find me eventually and rescue me,” Tim informed them.”

“You’re mouthy,” Sling said. It sounded off to Tim and he realised he was starting to slip towards sleep. He dragged himself back to full awareness with force of will.

“I’m _tired,_ ” he complained. “It’s just meaningless babble. Ignore me.”

“It’s irritating,” Gunman snapped. “Unless you change your mind about the land site, keep quiet.”

“If it’s that hard for you,” Sling said, suddenly close enough that Tim could feel his breath on his face, “We could find a better use for that mouth of yours.” His fingers trailed down Tim’s cheek and across his lips.

Waiting for rescue wasn’t an option anymore. Tim had done a lot of things for the mission or to preserve his identity, but some things weren’t worth it.

Preserving his identity wasn’t worth this.

Tim pressed his lips together and shook his head no. He had no illusions Sling would respect his denials but it did serve to cover what he was doing behind his back.

“No?” Sling asked, grabbing Tim’s jaw and squeezing painfully. “You think you have a choice here? The only choice you have is if I make it good for you. Be a good slut for me and maybe I’ll help you out in return. Otherwise…” he trailed off, leaving the threat to hang in the air unsaid.

That was okay. Tim didn’t need him to elaborate, he just needed them to not notice.

“You’re sick, man,” Gunman said. But he didn’t move to stop Sling.

“A blowjob from a man isn’t any different than a blowjob from a woman,” Sling said. He started undoing his belt, but Tim was already ready.

He pulled his arms around himself, grabbing onto Sling’s hips and headbutting him in the crotch before he could register what was happening. Sling went down and Tim pulled himself standing, mostly free.

Gunman yelled in shock and moved towards Tim reflexively, but Tim had already planned for that. He grabbed the chair and lifted it, swinging it towards Gunman and hitting him around the head with it. The chair broke on impact and Gunman went down.

Ankles finally free, Tim moved, staking out the corner so he’d be hidden if the door opened.

And open the door did. Rat Face charged through, followed by two more goons. One Tim recognised as the second gunman, the other he assumed had been driving the vehicle they’d used to grab him.

Rat Face stopped in shock and Tim didn’t bother waiting, just struck the second gunman in the neck, knocking him out instantly. The resultant thud alerted Rat Face and the last goon to Tim’s position and they spun to face him, Rat Face pulling out a gun. That was unexpected, but not a concern. Tim kicked the gun out of his hand and then kicked him in the head. The gun fired in the scuffle.

Then the last guy moved and Tim realised he’d messed up. He’d thought Rat Face was the priority because he had a gun, but it just gave the last guy to get Tim in a headlock.

Tim choked in surprise and then struggled in the hold for an embarrassingly long time before the lack of air kicked his brain back into gear. He stilled himself for a single heartbeat and then burst back into gear, forcing his way out of the hold and lashing out at his captor. He was vaguely aware of Sling climbing to his feet behind him. He’d have to put this guy down quick.

Five strikes in and halfway through the final blow, the door burst in again. “GCPD, everybody freeze.” The interruption was enough to shock Tim out of his tunnel vision and realise what he was doing.

“Tim,” Dick cried, running into the room with Commissioner Gordon on his heels.

“Dick,” Tim replied in relief. He remembered the guy standing in front of him and turned his head to see him start to turn blue. “Shit,” he swore and lashed out, disabling the lock. His almost victim collapsed to the ground, clutching at his throat and gulping down air.

“I said freeze!” The first officer reiterated, turning his gun on Tim.

“I’m gonna,” Tim gasped, raising his arms in surrender. Dick, shoving through the throng in the doorway and reaching out to Tim, was the last thing he saw before he allowed himself the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> I currently have a second chapter written and a lot of things happening at once, so don't go holding your breath for updates.
> 
> There's a good chance I'll respond to comments that're more than just "I love this". Please feed the validation machine. If you don't want me to reply, just say so, whisper, or make it small and I'll respect that.


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